Last week, as part of his first trip abroad as president, Donald Trump met with Pope Francis in Italy. Photos from the meeting, like many of the photos of Trump since he became commander-in-chief, are remarkably bizarre. In one, the pope stands stone faced, his arms hitched to his sides and his shoulders slouched, at a noticeable distance from Donald, Ivanka, and Melania. The president sports a childlike grin almost as if he can hardly believe where he is.
Trump’s entire overseas trip was filled with such instances of stranger-than-we’re-used-to optics. The president, with his stiff coif of hair, sagging face, and bullish demeanor, appears dreadfully out of place in any official setting. For decades, his image was associated with cartoonish appearances on television and tabloid scandals, and it’s a hard reference point to shake.
Trump doesn’t really look like a president, but then again that assumes there is a way a president should look. During the presidential debates, Trump leveled a critique of Hillary Clinton that she lacked the “stamina” for the presidency, a thinly veiled reference to the idea that presidents should be men. Indeed, over the course of American history, the men (always men) who have occupied the office of the president have expended great energy controlling the optics around them. Like an Instagram star whose wealth depends on how effectively they can inspire envy from their followers, presidents rely on appearing presidential. But what exactly does it mean to “look presidential?”
Early on in Bill Clinton’s presidency, after he reneged on his many promises for social reform, he went on what amounted to an early reelection campaign, taking photos riding tractor trailers, shooting guns, and playing the saxophone. His strategist at the time, Dick Morris, engineered the tour, hoping to craft an image of a president with whom the average American would like to share a beer. Ronald Reagan had a similarly folksy approach to the office, taking frequent hunting trips and playing hockey with the Olympic hockey team.
This kind of forced relatability is only one part of the presidential look. Even George W. Bush, who was seen as one of our most dimwitted presidents, was adept at making enough stern faces that indicated he took his job very seriously. Of course, embarrassing images dogged Bush’s presidency, too — the photo of him reading a children’s book as planes struck the World Trade Center followed him for his entire tenure in office. But the presidential “look” is one of aggregates. There’s no shortage of silly photos of most presidents, who often find themselves blindsided by the customs of other countries, it is simply that they manage to cultivate an image of a powerful, virile, and very serious man.
what exactly does it mean to “look presidential?”
In Trump, no such image has emerged, but this isn’t for lack of trying. As he led a botched raid in Libya that ended in the deaths of nearly 30 civilians and one U.S. service member, launched a superfluous missile strike against Syria, and leveled dubious claims against his predecessor, professional commentators insisted on taking stock of how “presidential” Trump was being. Van Jones of CNN said Trump became president during his State of the Union speech, in which he ham-handedly honored the wife of an American soldier. Fareed Zakaria, from the same network, said Trump became president when he launched missiles at a Syrian airstrip while eating a piece of chocolate cake.
The belief that the gravity of the presidency could have somehow transformed Donald Trump is rooted in necessity. Appearing presidential is a central function of American presidents because it lulls the public into a sense of security, preventing them from scrutinizing the country’s political system. But it is difficult to even fake it with Donald Trump, a man whose inability to form complete sentences is on frequent and embarrassing display. The result is an unveiling of sorts. Trump is certainly more bizarre, crude, tempestuous, and unhinged than any other American president, but only by as much as he allows us to see.
